


May Have Side effects

by PumpkinPatch



Category: Happy Tree Friends
Genre: Anxiety, Evil is split from Flippy, Gender or Sex Swap, Identity Issues, M/M, Male Flaky, Self-Discovery, Sex Change, Sexuality Crisis, Virginity Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinPatch/pseuds/PumpkinPatch
Summary: Flaky busts into Flippy's house while Evil is out. Shenanigans ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

 

The door of Flippy's house was flung open and in came Flaky, he could tell by her dandruff trail. She was clad in a trench coat and wearing a hat that resembled Shifty's own. She shook and shuddered as she stepped inside. He found it odd that his friend was here, so suddenly, and shaking. Setting the broom aside, Flippy looked her up and down.  
"Why're you shuddering?"

Flaky's eyes were wide, she looked at him, then everywhere as if scared someone else was there. "S-Something h-happened in Sniffles' l-lab..." His ears went upright, even as she said the next half, "Can't you tell how freaking deep my v-voice is?!"

With a clatter, the broom hit the floor and Flippy's mouth dropped open. "Oh no. Flaky, tell me you're not a m-a-l-e." He spelled.

The porcupine gave a terrified tremble and looked to him as if he was her only hope. She reached out and grabbed Flippy by the jacket, fabric stretching and holding. 

"P-Please help me!"

Evil wouldn't like this. Worse, he'd attack Sniffles. Worse, he'd likely kill Flaky to reset her. Flippy swallowed back that imagery. "You realize if he smells or sees you you're in huuuge trouble!"

"W-What's worse is what I have to do to get back to n-normal!"

He felt like her entire sentence was punctuated by exclamation points. Surely it could not be _that bad_ , what could Sniffles' have discovered as the cure?  
"What's that?"

Shaking so hard it was snowing upon his floor, the porcupine began to whisper into one green ear. Flippy felt his face go from green to red at what Flaky was telling him. He tried to not think of what that might mean, but it was too hard not to. ". . . E-Evil might," He wrung his hat which was clutched tightly in his hands as his face became red enough to match her. "B-b-be able to help you with that."


	2. Chapter 2

It was an odd thing, Flippy noted, to watch Flaky fret and shudder. She wasn't a female anymore, but she certainly had lost nothing in the change. _Instead she gained a -_ He didn't finish his thoughts as he reached out to steady her and bring her to a less at arm's length state. She'd easily shouted, “There's no way!” at the suggestion of Evil 'helping' her and Flippy honestly had never gone the direction of sleeping with a male.

“I'm not sure what to suggest, should I go speak to Sniffles about this?”

“Yes!” She shouted, then fell quiet, thoughtfully so, and seemed to fumble with her quills. “I mean, no!”

“I could threaten him.”

“Yeah, and what if he never helps us again!?”

He looked at her with an expression of confusion. “Sniffles has never helped anyone ever, Flaky. He's not that kind of person.”

The anteater erred on the side of science over emotions, and ran the lab with a calloused hand. Any attempts to help often did more harm and at the end, he just wrote it all down. Future attempts were more about being right or creating life -or aliens- and being some smartypants jerk who could smile and go “aha!” than a good person. 

Flippy was emotional, as was Flaky. He cupped his hands over hers and forced a smile. “We're going to find a way, Flaky.”

“Yeah, the o-only way there is.”

He pursed his lips and tried not to protest. He was not settled on the method she'd been given, and truly had no desire to go through with the process. Though it had nothing to do with him specifically. “There's bound to be someone else who maybe...”

“In this state?” 

“The town _is_ mostly men.” Flaky scoffed, as if he'd made a terrible joke and Flippy's expression screwed up as he realized why that was. The bear sighed. “Right.”


	3. Chapter 3

Flippy tries to think of any way there could be. When nothing made sense, he began to actually _hope_ Evil would come home. His evil half could be reckless and loud, and scare everyone around, but he was useful for crazy ideas. Even if Fliqpy destroyed everything in the house, he might at least not kill Flaky. Flippy was left wondering if Evil might even know anything about things like this.

 _He is the one who was experimented on, not me._

What possibly could he do. _Bite the bullet_ Flippy assumed. That was what others would tell him, wasn't it? He couldn't determine if everyone would say it. Maybe he should leave. “Would you be okay here alone?”

“Y-you're not gonna go be mean to Sniffles, are you?”

Power of suggestion leads him to feel the need to do such anew, but he decides no, if anything, he'll save Sniffles for later. So Flippy shakes his head. “No, Flaky. I just... need to think on this more.”

“More than hours?”

“Heh, Flaky, this is kind of massive.”

“W-w- I kn-know.” She ducks her face into the coat and pulls the hat over her head, looking and sounding ten times as ashamed as she ought to. “I-I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault, Flaky.”

It's not, he repeats, hands slipping into a fresh jacket and pair or pants, something almost no one really invests in around the town. Flippy wonders why he even bothers, only people with clothing are older ones in his age range and Flaky now. He tried to think of something meaningful to say to her now. The shock's yet to wear off and he feels on autopilot. “I'll be back later.” He shuts the door behind after she replies a stuttery okay.

The path from his house is bare, green grass and blue skies. Nothing seems off about today.

_The perfect day for it all to go crazy._


	4. Chapter 4

Flippy's path is simple. He'll start off towards town, dodge Cuddle's friendliness, evade Giggles and Petunia's questions and potential flirting, nudge them towards Disco Bear, Cuddles, hell, even Truffles. Anyone but him. Disco Bear's a repeated victim, being in the same age range as himself, Flippy is hellbent on dodging the younger female's affections. It just doesn't appeal to him. He likes them all as friends. 

He doesn't want to think about Flaky. He's always liked her, but not quiet like that. Giggles and Petunia used to sing songs for the first year, make a lot of insinuation. The fact Flaky and him were both so alike, had so much in common, it was what both females called 'fate' and he called coincidence. The same allergies, save a few things, both socially awkward, both jumpy, sharing similar fears and worries, and both being complimentary colors. Flippy is not oblivious that he's green, Flaky is red, they go together like a rose bush. Thanks to Petunia he _has_ tried imagining their kids and only gotten gross puke shades or some nicer rusty orange hues, but most would be brown. He hates having imagined that.

He blames Petunia for making him imagine that. Flippy's footsteps get louder now, bear feet stomping leaves and hard asphalt. The issue is, he's turned that on them, even saying that him and Flaky would only endlessly upset each other or cause more freak outs. They'd likely panic one another too much to even survive a single day.

He turns towards Mime's place. One thing Flippy was taught that he allowed to get rusty was his sign language, but Mime keeps him from going dull. Maybe the deer will have some form of advice. The bear narrowly dodges Lumpy crashing and walks faster as the moose calls his name. It's a coin flip between which one he wants to talk to less right then, Lumpy, or Sniffles.


	5. Chapter 5

Mime's house was simple, often quiet. The deer was friendly, had an open door policy. More like a knock twice then let yourself in policy, even when he was away he had this policy. It was something Flippy could appreciate, along with the buck's silence. Most were too loud. He felt certain Giggles and Cuddles were both tailing him, as both's laughter was close at his heels and they each chimed back and forth talk of how in love they were. Flippy wasn't sure the love was real or an addiction at this rate. 

He turned for Mime's place, leaving them both behind as they saw Russell running a stand and wanted to share food. He made his way to the door, knocked twice, and walked inside. Mole was there, he recognized the male's cane and found both Mime and Mole sharing drinks. The blind male's tiny ears turned Flippy's way as the veteran momentarily felt bad for the poorly-sighted male's vision, then he began signing to Mime. It began with formalities. How he was, how was Mime? How their days had been, he left out Flaky, saving her for the end. Which was reached within a few minutes, as Mole was soothed with gentle pats.

Flippy was ushered to a chair Mime had fetched, and he whispered hi to Mole as he sat down in it and gently sipped the offered drinks. He finally began on Flaky. Sniffles name was barely spelled by his hand when the deer's expression became annoyed and startled. Mime had many incidents with the anteater, some that Flippy had only learned of by accident.

He made soothing motions and then returned to patting Mole, attention upon Flippy still. He was rapt now, and waiting to hear more on Flaky. Flippy obliged, even as Mime's emotions became sour and angered. 

Finally, the bear balled up one fist and smacked it upon the other, thumbs out, a gesture that in sign language had a simple translation.

Help.


	6. Chapter 6

Most of what Mime suggested was instantly shot down. It seemed with time they both were making gestures and Mole was chiming in with his own suggestions, albeit verbally. His were more blunt, followed a theme, and went along the lines of blind date or maybe Flippy could just ask if anyone was less than straight. 

“Such as?”

The rodent sips his drink and adjusts his thick, black lenses so they balance upon his nose, he takes a thoughtful pause, letting Flippy's pregnant curiosity build.

“You can try to flirt. Last I felt along your face, you weren't exactly unattractive.”

Flippy can feel himself pulling a face that Mole will never feel, nor see, and his eyes go to Mime, who if not for the face paint, he'd swear would be turning redder than the blood spilled on the battle field. “Oh.” Is all he can manage. He swears he didn't sign up for this. His tongue gets burned on his drink, but he swallows it anyway, ignoring a slight rasp in his voice. “Flirt, you say?”

“The place is full of males.” Mole adds, draining his cup and fumbling for the pot just to have the deer grasp his hand and pat it before the teapot is tipped and the cup refilled. There's an intimacy there Flippy never would have caught before. Mime signs agreement with Mole, Flippy forces a smile as his tongue feels pained.

“Right. I could go flirt and see who leans that way and can be nudged to have sex with Flaky.”

Mole nods, seeming to take this as some normal action, despite half the context having only been told to Mime with hand gestures. Flippy shouldn't find that soothing. 

“This is going to be a long day.”

“Could be many days.”

His dark onyx eyes rest upon those glasses, trying to see the blind eyes behind them, Mime begins to pat his shoulders and he wonders about himself more. Where does he stand on this? He's never thought on it so much until now. “Another cup, please.”


	7. Chapter 7

Flaky tries her best to ignore the passage of time. Two hours, then four, five... she can see it getting dark. Will it be weird to spend the night here? Maybe she should undress? The clothes are hot and itchy, her quills being pushed in angles that hurt her spine and scalp. She's been scratching at her head and pacing back and forth in a panic.

Flippy had welcomed her, allowed her inside. She wonders if that extends to taking a bath and trying to make some food. She's scared to be rude. He has been so accommodating over the years. Sniffles was too, once, Flaky's pretty sure she'll never go back to the anteater's lab alone. But Giggles and Petunia would be whooping it up laughing over this, probably enjoying it. She shakes. This is possibly the worst thing to happen to her yet, and this is on top of everything she's died from!

She opts for the bath.

It's nice, soothing. Flaky melts into it and relaxes. 

She submerges into the suds and when it ends, she is sad to leave.

She wraps herself in two towels, hoping to dry off before Flippy has returned, and then to redress.

When the door rattles and the knob turns, she beams a hopeful smile at the green bear as he walks inside. His gaze is elsewhere, to the wall and out the window as he steps inside, green jacket and beret looking slightly askew and him looking like his walk took a lot out of him.

It's when he stops looking elsewhere that Flaky processes. Her breath hitches as Flippy catches onto where she is and those yellow-green eyes rest upon her, two canines poking out his mouth. It's not Flippy who just returned home, her savior is still out making his rounds.

No, who's now in the house is someone far more dangerous, far more mean, more......

Evil.


	8. Chapter 8

Upon this realization Flaky's heart decides to gallop like a racehorse. More so, like a rabbit chased by hounds. It beats against her ribs and felt strained. She pondered, eyes locked upon the bear, if she'd just die by heart attack. He'd not budged, taking her in, with nothing but a towel to hide herself.

He takes her in now, eyes moving, the porcupine tries not to flinch or retreat, even as she's looked up and down and the gears begin to rotate within Evil's mind. She's scared, very scared. Her lungs desire air, but she can't seem to remember how to breathe. _He's staring right at me._

His fingers twitch, his nose wiggles, his eyes narrow. Still, he doesn't speak, he doesn't move, he stares at her, and begins to stare, somehow, it's more intense now than it was prior. Breathing wins out, her lungs are filled with air as she gasps and wheeze and chokes. Tears are in the corner of her burning eyes. Finally, he moves forward, the door long shut behind him. She has no idea how to react, so she coughs more.

“How'd you get in here?”

It's not what she expected to hear, honestly. She chokes more. “I-I was allowed inside.”

This brings him to a pause, his face scrunching up now. “Wait.”

She does.

“I thought you were someone else. Are you related to Flaky?”

 _What?_ Flaky's face is a mess of shock and confusion. _Why would he ask that- do I sound that much like someone else?_ Would a lie save her? She remembered a song she sang after told sounds and music could become a therapy for her. _Brave it, face it._ She dares to risk it. Today has already been chaos.

“Yes?”

“I've never seen you before, you new here?”

“Yes?”

His weapon's not reached for, Evil Flippy reaches out and pats her on the shoulder.


	9. Chapter 9

She can only shake beneath his paw. Her brain says Fliqpy is going to smash through her clavicle, swing with a mighty karate chop and remove her entire arm. Memories of glass and pain flicker behind her eyes, her doctors say anxiety like hers almost toes the line of PTSD, she's been doing good though, or so they say. Doing good, she focuses on that as those teeth smile at her, as he leans towards her.

“So you look like Flaky a lot like how that one guys kid looks just like him then.”

“Cub.”

“Yeah, that kid.”

She's never made that consideration. Or any. “Y-yeah. Flippy let me stay until he found out some stuff.”

“That sounds like him.” Evil Flippy's voice isn't soothing or harsh, it's almost tired. Like every day this happens. “So.”

“So?”

“Kill anyone later?”

She squeaks a strangled no, dandruff hitting the floor as her head shakes. “Pity.”

Flaky takes a breath and harbors a guess. “Y-you?”

He gets a confused look, eyes rolling into his head as he snorts. It feels like she's insulted him somehow, but she can't tell how. The question, given what Flaky has always known about him, is an easy one. Evil always kills people, has forever that she's known him. Flippy isn't a murderer, that's why Evil exists. They're naturally yin and yang, or light and dark. 

Finally, the large grizzly breathes out a grumbling sigh that shakes from his chest. “No, but like always, I imagined doing it time and time again. It'd be so easy to take one of them and snap their neck then grab my knife and-” Evil realizes his company is wide-eyed now. “Anyway, no. I'm. . . rehabilitated. Maybe.”

“Oh.”

“Don't tell Flippy though, or I'll gut you! I'm trying it to prove it won't work, and it's been driving me insane, a lot.” His eyes narrow. “It's like an addiction.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Addictions suck.” She says bluntly, trying to ignore that she's in his territory and by all means he can end her at any moment. 

He screws his face up, laughter jostling through his features like cracks on a dropped plate. It's soft, small, but spreads outward, she tries her best not to make her tell tale nervous laugh as he seems amused by this.

“Yeah, you got that right.” The bear hooks a leg over a spare chair. “Therapy, pills, Flippy has done it all, they call me Flippy sometimes still, mostly the moose. I'm not him, I'm younger it feels like.”

“Younger?”

“Feels like. Stupid, I know. It feels like I was born in war and never got my chance at things.”

 _Every chance given you murdered someone._ She thinks, head ducked into the fabric of her trench coat. She's not pleased that Flippy's not back yet. This means he might take longer and longer. Maybe even until the next day. She can't buy Evil Flippy is actually trying to be good, sure he hasn't killed her yet, but he's still a confusing person to be around. He sounds lost, she can tell it more and more. 

Can she dare trust in him?

Does she have any other option?

No.

He sits weirdly in two chairs, legs stretched in one and the other tipped backwards. He looks like a brat waiting for their parents at a bus stop or something. _Younger than Flippy._ Not by a lot, Flippy was drafted long ago, before Flaky's birth even. She's nowhere near her bear friend's age. 

“I believe in you,” it sounds stupid when she says it, “for what it matters.”

Evil frowns deeply, as if confused by this, then he nods his head, as if taking it in like a drink being swallowed. She can't read him, he looks … well, it's not mad. She can't read what it is.


	11. Chapter 11

He stares at her so long she finds herself having caught the hiccups. It punctuates the silence between them until she moves out of his gaze, and pours herself a drink. The tap water in the town is bad at everyone's place. No one ever fixes the pipes and no one's really focused on fixing them. She stares into the water and tries not to focus on how it's probably poison they are slowly drinking. She doesn't want to look up and catch him staring still.

“I'm sorry, I think I offended you –“

“Thank you.”

Flaky chokes before looking at him. “What?”

“I've never had anyone say they believe in me, well, maybe Flippy, but he's my other half, so that's to be expected, but you, we've barely talked and you're already better than half these saps in this town.”

“Oh... thanks?”

“Pull up a seat, I'll try my hand at cooking.”

He cooks? She thinks, then asks.

“It involves fire, sharp objects, stabbing, slicing, and all the stuff war taught me to do. It's the closest to an appeal I get since Flippy doesn't want to take me hunting and no one will loan me the things needed for it.”

“You'd like to hunt?”

Evil Flippy shrugs. “Beats sticking around where I'm not wanted all day.”

Her mouth runs like a faucet, she begins to say he's wanted by her, but it's tripped upon and tangled on after 'you're wanted' gets out, and by then he's staring at her anew, she can't read him at all. She wishes she could read him. What on earth is he thinking now?

“You're good company.”

“Oh.” Phew.

“You want to spend the night on the couch or see if there's spare beds in this place?”

Flippy wouldn't mind if she did. She nods slowly. “If it's no trouble,”

“Can't be more trouble than me.”

They share a smile with each other.


	12. Chapter 12

Flippy's day has been something else. He's talked to every male in town, sometimes honest, sometimes twisting the truth. Dodging Pop and Cub's place, he finds himself aware Disco Bear is there and ends up back there by sunset. They look happy, much like Mole and Mime were when he left, but in a different way, a more tired way.

Like two males who accept they will never have anything more than what they have now, young Cub bringing his toys to first Pop, then to Disco Bear, showing them with a wide smile. In Pop's company he can no longer bring himself to admit why he stopped by, nor admit he remembers what he wanted to talk about. 

He instead pets Cub and talks to him, small words in response to short sentences and a lot of babble.

He relaxes here, tired after trying to discuss things he has no idea how to discuss. He's learned more about all of them than he wanted to, in ways he can never talk about. 

“You have good taste, as usual, Disco.” He nods towards the music playing.

“Not mine.” A thumb hooks into his collar, and the male nods to Pop, a smile on the robed bear's face.

“Oh.” That makes sense. Mime and Mole have something in common, their senses or lack of it, and Pop and D.B both have tastes in music. He's never really tried to find similar things, they just came to him. 

He looks up from playing with Cub at the question, “You ever consider babysitting him for us?”

“You joking?”

“Been a long time since you hurt anyone.” Cub's dad says, tapping his pipe and eyeing a box of records.

Flippy thinks on it. “When do you need me to?” 

“Would tonight be too abrupt?”

Disco Bear pulls a move, makes a sound, and then continues to dance along, cutting a rug under Pop's gaze. He admires their friendship, and feels slight envy. _Evil's never been kind._ His only company has been himself, and sometimes Flaky. 

Both of which are wrapped up in their own messes. 

“Not at all. When will you be back?”


	13. Chapter 13

He knows he's being spiteful. Turning his hand over as Cub places a block into his palm. He's tired of being misunderstood. He's never thought upon it much, but now it's coming into perspective. They don't blame him for what Evil does anymore.

Least not Pop, not D.B. 

Not Cub.

Pop's always been a terrible klutz, awful awful at keeping Cub safe. Flippy's always been great at staying alive while at war. This isn't war though. This is a small bear who's never seen war. 

“And you never will.”

“Ba?” Cub tilts his head.

“It's fine, they said they'd be gone for only four hours.” 

“Aha, ba!” 

He bounces a ball and toddles around. Flippy keeps his bowie knife away from Cub, leaving it in reach, but not around his waist as he sits down and waits. He's mad underneath it all. Mad he's spent the day seeing everyone talks to him relatively well. Like he's not Evil. He's not his brethren. A being of blood and genetics who slips out and makes them scared.

Cub brings him another block. He starts to stack them. The letters spell nothing but a clump of consonents as Cub knocks them down. He sees the word Now among the remains, and mixes it up to say Pow. That's what he feels like he is. A prisoner of war. 

Evil's been high strung, a lot like Flaky, moody, snappy. Flippy can't tell why he's so unhappy lately.

 _Same reason you used to be._ His thoughts say, he jerks his head back and shakes it. Cub brings more blocks to the pile. He thinks on that as he stacks them. Everyone treated him wrong when Evil was within him, maybe they are treating Evil that way alone.

How would it feel, he thinks on that, if it were all him?

A cold lancing pain hits his chest.

He's been ignoring Evil. Neglecting him. Evil comes home pissed and furious just to get lectures and scoldings from the only person he's ever spent time around. Flippy feels guilt pool into his gut. He knows the pain, he lived it himself. 

He holds in a swear, and the tears that threaten to follow it.


	14. Chapter 14

By the time Pop and Disco Bear return, Cub's in bed, Flippy's reading books from their personal shelves. The kid's books are a fast read. He learned to take in long texts from the war.

He's on some deep philosophical murder mystery when the door swings open and they come in. Reflexes make him reach for the knife in the back of his jacket, tucked inside a special pocket. He stops and listens, assessing the threat is a must before acting. 

Drunk, he thinks, hearing a pair of childish giggles and clumsy footsteps. Pop makes noises on par with his son as Disco Bear cries out and retrieves the male from fully smashing his face into a wall.

Doesn't matter. 

Their comments are crude, with Disco Bear growling in a slurred manner and Pop making a soft 'uhhhh-huuuaaahh' sound followed by more steps. 

It's then he chooses to remind them he exists. Moving away from Cub's crib and shutting the door, he approaches, book held in hand. They're both barely dressed, with crooked robes over themselves and frazzled hair. 

“Have fun?” 

“Oh, yeah. Flippy!” Pop chimes in, smiling, looking at peace for a change. Flippy's never seen the bear look quite so pleased. “Sorry we're late.”

“No problem. Only an extra... four hours.” He forces a smile. Trying not to look at where their arms are, or their hands. They're so happy here. 

“No, nononono, I insssiist.”

“Insist on?”

“Dee-bee, tip him extraaa.”

Disco Bear somehow has many surprises. His robe has pockets and in his pocket is his wallet. Flippy feels impressed he kept his own wallet on him. Especially when he catches the bulge in his pocket still. He can only guess that's Pop's. Correction. Wallets.

He knew D.B had an income, and made a lot of music and remixes in the seventies, but the wad of cash handed over is thick enough to make Shifty and Lifty go straight. Flippy holds it, counting each one in shock, and looking at them like he can't possibly.

Before he can say such, he's hushed.

“We're gonna go to bed, feel fr-reee-e to spend the ni-night if you need to...”

He doesn't follow them. He's too stunned by how much he's counting out.


	15. Chapter 15

It's morning. Another day. Flaky tries to ignore the sun, her hands run along her face, wiping sleep from her eyes. The blanket atop her is heavy, wrapped around twice and now full of quills. She wonders if she'll have to apologize for it later.

The next thought she has is to lift the blanket. Doing so she finds her hands feeling between her parted legs with a heat panning across her face. Shame greets her as her fingers wrap around something she shouldn't have. Retreating, she scolds herself, wriggling from within the blanket tangles. It feels wrong, it feels good, wrong and uncomfortable, but also nice and a bit okay. Like maybe if she kept at it she'd feel something _better_ , Flaky is no stranger to what people do in private, she binged enough romance novels to make Giggles and Petunia's ring around the town's population a joke.

 _Of all the things that could have happened, this is what's sticking with me past a day._ She's been dyed every color, impaled, disemboweled, eaten, made into a fence post and put on a pike. She's had worse. She repeats this to herself.

So then why is this what gets to her so badly?

She turns on the couch, a feat quite difficult, to tilt her head and flick an ear. It's quiet. Flaky gets out of bed, leaving a trail of loose quills in her path before she can go to the bathroom and begin smoothing them back.

 _Better than most mornings, but the same as a normal Monday._ It's not a Monday, that she knows of, but she feels like she woke up to one.

A knock at the door startles her. “You in there?” 

Relieved it's only Evil, she relaxes her suddenly tensed shoulders and drops the quills she pulled out into the trash pin. “Y-yes?” 

“Okay, thought you bailed. I'll make breakfast.”

“Mmmhmm.”

It's ten minutes before she's straightened out. She wonders if she should wait.


End file.
